Punting on the Thames
by ElizaDolittle1
Summary: PrePD with Clarisse and Rupert. This takes place before they are joined in an arranged marriage, how much fun could marrying someone you don't love be?


_Authors note: This story goes out to my dear Jeanett! You've always been so supportive of my writing by reading it and with your kind words. Here is the story you asked of me._

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters...plot is all mine!**

OoOoO

Clarisse yelled "Coming!" as she ran down the stairs with energy to fit her age. She reached the door with a "Hello!" to the person on the other side after opening it.

"Here you go," the man smiled and handed her a note with the royal seal on it.

'Rupert' she smirked, thinking of the notes she had received before. She thanked the messenger and closed the door behind her. She had received notes like this from time to time for many years now. It had been decided before she was born that she was to marry the future king of Genovia. Her mother had always told her she was going to marry the crown prince and be a queen! 'A prince!' she used to squeal. Her parents had told her many times throughout her childhood and teens that he had visited her just after she was born. He was about 11 at the time. Her mother always laughed when she recalled this: when the little prince saw his future bride for the first time, his eyes widened and turned to the Queen, saying, "I'm marrying _her_?"

She had never really known him personally in her 18 years of life; she had only received little letters like the one just now from him. It was always sweet and humorous the way he opened with "My darling fiancé, how are you?" Every once and a while he would call on her and they would go on an outing, to chat and better their relationship. An arranged marriage really didn't call for much courtship, but Rupert always said dating was the best part of it.

She carefully parted the royal seal made on a small wax blob from the paper and opened the note.

_Dearest Clarisse,_

_My darling fiancé, how are you? I hope you have been well since our last adventure in the park with those imbecile security guards at our wait. I'm sure you have read or seen on the news that my father has not been well. He tries to continue as if nothing is wrong, but I fear he will only worsen._

_With that sad news said, what say you we go to the river tomorrow? I have an outing planned I should hope you will enjoy!_

_Till it be morrow milady,_

_Rupert_

She read over the letter once more; how she loved his handwriting! With the loops and twists he wrote, it looked so old fashioned as if out of an old parchment made by a royal scribe hundreds of years ago! She sighed and thought about the day to come. The river, how exciting! He always sent for her at the same time of day, she would be ready for him tomorrow.

OoOoO

She arrived at the riverside alone; she would meet him there. Standing on the large grass green, the breeze cooled her slightly from the warm weather. She wore a lilac coloured summer dress, very light fabric so she could breathe in the heat. It hugged the curves of her body, all together making a very nice outfit for her. To cover her head from the seething rays of the sun, she had a lovely cream coloured floppy hat on.

She just about shrieked when she felt a hand tap her on the back. "I'm sorry," the head of security for the royal family laughed, "His Highness and yourself will be having a guide today on your boat trip, he's just down there." Howard pointed to a boat with a man standing in it waiting for its passengers. "You'll be going on a lovely punt ride down the Rutchamaquard," Howard finished, "His Highness will be here in a moment, he said for you to wait for him in the punt. Have a good time," he winked and started across the grassy area to the main path.

With that she sighed and walked towards the boat. "Hello," Clarisse said happily at the bank's edge to the man in the boat.

"Hello," the man cleared his throat and said with a gruff voice. He turned around and offered his hand to help her in the boat. She couldn't see his face because his hat was pulled down to cover his eyes. A shady person she thought, but Howard was very reliable, she shouldn't worry.

She sat down on the middle seat of the boat; that was the only spot anyways. She looked over the grass and waited to see Rupert appear somewhere. She felt the boat rock ever so slightly and looked to see the boatman pushing off the bank with his pole.

"What are doing? We have to wait for my-" she started to worry, and then stopped. What was Rupert anyways? Not her 'boyfriend'! "My escort!"

The man paid no attention and stood on his platform, pushing the pole into the muddy bottom to move the punt.

"Are you listening to me, I said what are you doing?" she said with anger, "I will scream if you will not answer me!"

"I never knew you could get so cross Clarisse," Rupert chuckled, turning around and talking off his hat.

"Oh you lying fool you!" she gasped with a half smile. "That was terribly mean of you! I thought you were going to take me away to who knows where!" she exclaimed and relaxed, knowing she was with him.

"Precisely why I did it, you know I like to trick you," he smirked, turning his head to look at her. "Punting on the Thames," he grinned, his gaze roaming the water and the other boats in it.

"I would hardly call this the Thames," she laughed and looked around at the many couples relaxing in each other's presence.

"I would hardly call this punting," he remarked cheekily as he struggled to get the pole out of the apparently deep mud of the river bottom.

"Its quite hot out isn't?" she said, fanning herself with her hand.

"That is why I brought this for you," he smiled, bending down behind him, he lifted a parasol from underneath his sweater that lay on top of it.

"It's lovely!" she marvelled, opening it and twirling its umbrella like cover. "And look, it matches my dress!" she almost squealed. 'She seems even more delighted that it matches her clothing!' Rupert thought and chuckled to himself.

"Did you plan this?" she asked him, smiling up at him with her brilliant eyes dazzling in the sun's bright shine.

"Well of course I did." He batted his eyelashes and turned to continue moving the punt.

"But how did you know what I was wearing today?" she puzzled. It couldn't be a minor coincidence!

"If I am to be King, I must know everything," he firmly stated with a wink.

"Mhmm," she looked at him as if to say 'having me followed to find the exact colour of clothing? Honestly!'

"Clarisse, I don't know how to tell you this," he suddenly became serious, giving one last strong push of the pole and resting it down in the boat to let them float idly.

He could see her tense as he sat down to talk to her. She sat up slightly and prepared for whatever he was about to say.

"As you know, my father has been ill." He took a deep breath and sighed, "It is my mother and father's wish that I assume the throne within this year."

She looked into his eyes. She wasn't sure what to make of this. It was important, but what did it mean to her? Would she still be marrying the future king? She nodded uncertainly to him.

He understood by her slow reaction that she wasn't completely sure of what he meant. "I must take a wife before I become king, a wife that will ensure the Renaldi bloodline."

She had thought correctly the first time; he would take a wife soon. Was this his way of asking her? Or was he saying that he had found a more suitable woman to be the Queen?

"Clarisse," he said, swiftly moving to sit beside her, careful not to rock the boat dangerously, "I've chosen you."

She was silent. It was finallysettling in her thoughts. She would marry him and an heir would be expected. She would never have a chance for true love. And what if she could not produce an heir for her beloved Genovia? It was all starting to whirl around in her thoughts uncontrollably.

"Please say you will," he pleaded, holding her hand in his.

"We've been betrothed since before I was born, I haven't a choice have I?" she asked in confusion.

"Clarisse, that does not matter to me. It may be a tradition for the last three hundred years, but I want you to be happy. To find love and live the life you've dreamed of. I leave this to you to decide. Do what is right, what is in your heart. For Genovia or for your happiness," he said. He truly did want her to do what she thought was right. He shouldn't be one to force marriage and a child by him because of what their parents decided before her birth.

"I don't know what to say," she whispered. She was scared and didn't know what to think. Could she rule a country? Could she be a good wife? Could she love him?

"I promise if you decide to do what is right for Genovia over your own true happiness, I will be all that I can for you. It is my one hope for you to be happy." As he spoke, she became more and more emotional. Her crystal eyes were rimmed in tears.

"If you choose to live your life in happiness, I will not object to it. There are other eligible women, yet they are nothing more than venomous snakes that long to be in command, to be the Queen. My parents gave me the choice to rethink my future bride if I wished. I thought about it for a very long time. They gave me stacks of pictures of other young girls your age that I could marry. I saw many pictures, and then I found yours. The other pictures were all taken to make the candidates look smart and fit to be Queen at only the age of ten. Your picture was much different. You were sitting in a tree, smiling and looking into the nest of a bird. You seemed like a real person, quite unlike the others. I stood by the decision made at your birth and picked you. I always knew that I would leave the final decision to you, you who looked so happy in the photograph, I never wanted to take that away." He spoke with such sincerity; Clarisse had always known he was a good person.

He sat back and looked down the river. "You know my great-great-grandmother Beatrice named this river. No one knows what the name means, she was mad as a March hare when she named it," he laughed. He seemed so at ease, leaning back, arms folded.

"I will," she spoke in an almost-loud sort of whisper.

"You will?" He sat up, his eyes shooting to her.

She smiled meekly and nodded in response.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" he exclaimed, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I knew you would say yes," he said after a few moments, releasing her from his arms, yet she stayed close to him.

"I will try to be a good friend and wife to you, and a queen to Genovia. I trust you with my happiness," she said with such truth as she gazed up at him.

"I know you will," he answered plainly. He knew the moment was right; he moved closer to her and put his hand on her back. She instinctively brought her hands to his chest as se felt his lips press to hers.

The kiss was all that she had hoped it to be, with a romantic setting as they floated at ease down the river. She felt the imaginary butterflies flutter around in her stomach as he rested his hand on her lower back.

He pulled back and looked at her, he started to laugh. "What?!" she said in shock, he was laughing at her!

"You're a good kisser too," he laughed deeper now. She couldn't hide the blush escaping onto her rosy cheeks—she started to laugh with him.

"I'm the luckiest man in the world," he said, standing and taking his place with the pole in hand. "Genovia will be proud to have such a queen, and I will be honoured even more to stand with her and call her my wife."


End file.
